Sword Among Us - Chapter 921: Reemerge in World of Martial Arts

After the Calamity War, the final and most devastating conflict to decide who would claim the Divine Throne, Kael Medici stood as the last survivor.He had led armies, fought with unmatched ferocity, and performed legendary feats. Yet in the end, his fate was no different from the rest. He perished like all the others, the final casualty of the Great War, his hand just shy of the throne he so desperately desired.But when he thought it was over… his eyes snapped open.He had returned to his youth, his memories intact.The path to divinity is drenched in blood, and the battle for supremacy is merciless. Yet Kael has already endured this once. This time, failure is not an option.With the memories of his past life, dominating talent and and a mysterious power awakening within him... The preparations to reach the Divine Throne were complete.

Strong? Handsome? Savage? Badass?It's all about the intelligence quotient, my friend.————PS: Mutation shouldn't be mistaken for enlightenment.

On what basis is a golden finger or a new life a must once you transmigrate? On what basis should a transmigrated cannon fodder definitely counterattack?

Is peacefully staying as a cannon fodder too much to ask for? Why come out and wreck everything, Slags….. The Male Lead is dead because of you, the world is even collapsing, okay?!

In order to earn Points, every time she enters a new world, Xia Liang expresses that she completes her missions very seriously, face slapping those secondary female characters who wish to counterattack, setting order to all the chaos, restoring the plot, and avoiding the collapse of the worlds.

As for why the Male Leads all fell in love with me, that was actually an accident. Em, it’s just, aren’t these accidents a little bit too many…

- Description from Novelupdates

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.